Page 39 of Fight

“Not much to see,” I say. He saunters in and heads toward the window, near my unmade bed. Okay, maybe it’s not that tidy, but after picking up a split shift, I used every second for sleep since yesterday’s calls had me dragging my feet.

He leans toward it and surveys the lookout.

My stomach rumbles, and I walk the three feet to the kitchen and locate a pan and place it on the stovetop. Then I open the fridge and pluck out my carton of eggs.

He peers back at me and throws his thumb over his shoulder. “You’ve got a great view of Main Street.”

Nodding, I say, “I people watch sometimes.”

“Hungry?” he asks, glancing at the eggs on the counter.

“Yeah, I was going to make some breakfast—or is it dinner?” I smile, and he smiles back but says nothing. Then it hits me, and I suddenly feel rude. “Oh, did you want to join me?” Shit, he just hooked me up with a tow and a new tire, it’s the least I can do. I say a silent prayer that he says no. Dave is a nice guy, but I feel uneasy with a man I don’t know well in such a small space.Myspace. I glimpse at my phone. This needs to be a quick breakfast since I’m hoping to get in the shower and tidy up before Callahan stops by.

“Sure, I can stay for a bit.”

Damn.

My phony grin freezes on my face. “Super!”

Guess I’m making scrambled eggs for two. These eggs were expensive, damn it.

“Would you like toast?” I offer.

“I’m gluten free.”

Good, that’ll get you out of here sooner. I point to one of the two chairs at my table. “Have a seat.” He walks toward it and pulls out a chair. “Actually, use the other one. That one’s kind of wobbly.”

Welcome to the Ritz.

The eggs sizzle when cracked into the pan. I use my partially melted spatula to break the yolks and whisk the eggs together, trying to hurry the process. I shake salt and pepper into the pan and continue pushing the eggs around until they thicken.

My feet shift back and forth, and I break the silence with more small talk. “So, how long have you lived in Sky Ridge?”

The coils on the electric stove burn brighter as I turn up the temperature, hoping to speed up the coagulation of these damn egg whites.

“Around twenty years.”

“Oh, that’s a long time. Where did you move from?”

“Small town not far from here.”

Once they’re done, I turn off the stove, split the eggs into two equal servings, and shovel them onto mismatched plates. From the drawer, I remove two plastic forks.

“That’s cool. This is a lovely area. I can see why people like it.”

He thanks me when I hand him a plate and a fork. His genuine appreciation makes me feel guilty for assuming the worst about him. Stabbing my eggs onto the tines, I ask him about his family.

“Did I hear your wife recently had a baby?” I ask, recalling the night at the bar when one of the hotshots asked how the new baby was doing.

“Yeah.”

“That’s exciting! Do you enjoy being a dad?”

He nods. “I love being a dad. Teaching them to take their first steps, throw a ball… it’s the best.”

I tilt the corner of my mouth in a half smile. In my experience, women did all the child rearing.

“It’s tough being gone for a few days at a time, but that’s the way it is.”